You and Love And Me
by PullingSunflowers
Summary: Love makes you dumb and Santana finds this out the hard way. A bit of angst, humor and fluff. Brittana. Two-shot.


Hi guys. I've been on a Brittana roll on Tumblr and Deviantart for a while and this just needed to be done. Some fluff. Some Angst. Thanks for stopping by and checking it out. :)

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><p><strong>You and Me<strong>

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><p>The first time it happens to Santana, they're lying in her room that smells like a combination of sweat and sex. Its nighttime outside but the moon was so big and bright that Santana doesn't have to struggle to see Brittany's figure. The blonde was so peaceful and quiet, perfectly snuggled against her, breathing in that smooth and tantalizing pace only Brittany could do. Others don't understand the other girl like Santana does, that's what she likes to think anyways, the others don't know the shear brilliance behind Brittany's simple statements.<p>

Which is good because she'd rather keep the gem she's discovered to herself.

As if sensing the shift in her mood, Brittany lifts her head up and tilts it slightly. Her facial features turn from relaxed to curiosity to worry in a matter of half a second but Santana takes it all in. She takes in Brittany's long blonde hair, discolored slightly by the moon's watery glaze, her perfect straight nose, lips so soft and pink that she doesn't want to ever share them and Brittany's _eyes_. Bright blue, never clouded, never menacing, its all the innocence and love in the world put in one person's soul and displayed through those wonderful, piercing blue eyes.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asks, in that almost sinful voice of hers.

Santana breaths out a long held breath, feeling the ball in her throat grow in size. There was something that she wanted to say, something that comes to mind and heart whenever she sees Brittany but when she opens her mouth, those words are lost. It's like practicing so much for a song and when the time comes, you just blank out.

The dark haired girl opens her mouth again to speak but her lips are suddenly dry, her voice suddenly gone. Santana wants to say those words, she wants to say it over and over and over again as Brittany rocks with her, lips passionately kissing her own, naked body sliding erotically over hers. But when the time comes, she can't.

It's not like she and Brittany hadn't said those words before. As children, they would take turns dressing up like the bride and groom and marry each other and every day they would say those words. Brittany said those words when they were ten to her father when he said that Santana may be moving; they said it again and again during elementary school as they held hands or linked pinkies. Then they discovered boys and that phrase got less and less frequent as she and Brittany realized the gravity of three little words. They never said it anymore but it was always there between them, even if Santana ran off with Puck or if Brittany disappeared to a boy's house.

But lately Santana has been finding it harder and harder to contain those words or hands, or emotions or jealousy for that matter. She wants to say it out loud in front of the whole Glee club, cue it to Brittany as she slides her hands into the blonde's inner thighs during history class, slip it into a conversation to guy that's drooling over her girl.

_Her girl._

It had a nice ring to it.

Santana wasn't sure though. Did Brittany even like her that way…? They had sex, more and more as the year went by but that didn't mean anything. Did Brittany see her as her girlfriend? No, probably not.

It's not because Brittany is dumb. She isn't. Brittany is just literal and people don't realize the many connotations that come with a simple phrase from the English language. Add that in with the fact that she never really defined their relationship in the first place and that's where they are now. Well, that too and their first time during Cheer camp when Brittany had one too many s'mores and Vanessa had bought whiskey and there were body shots that turned into make out sessions that turned into naked bodies on their cabin leader's bed. Confusing and down right wanky much? Yes.

Santana has tried scratching that itch with a boy. She has, but it's not a permanent solution. She's satiated enough to function without feeling like she's going to explode but, eventually, the frustration would lead into increased bitchiness (even Brittany gets irritable by then) and it takes one to shove the other against the locker room's shower wall and they do it until Santana can't remember her name. Then she comes out grinning like the Cheshire cat, feeling completely renewed.

Nowadays, she doesn't even go to boys. Their once a week make out session has turned into an everyday, every private moment possible type of deal and sex is pretty much wherever they won't get caught. Like the park bench. Or Santana's jacuzzi. Or the choir room's piano.

Now _that_ was fun.

"San?" Brittany pulls her back to reality. "Were you going to say something?"

Santana closes her mouth with an audible _click_ and struggles to breathe. Why does it always feel like this? She starts again but feels her chest tighten and eyes water. No use. She sighs and lets her shoulders drop, eyes still on Brittany's picturesque face.

"You're…." A flash of courage, "I….I…I think you're really beautiful."

Brittany looks surprised yet disappointed. She leans forward and presses their lips together in a chaste kiss. "Thank you." The blonde rests her forehead on Santana, her eyes glowing in that knowing, understanding way. Brittany knows the truth even when she can't say the words.

Instead, Santana pulls all those feelings, all those words together and into the kisses that trail from her mouth to Brittany's cheek then neck then collarbone. When she looks up at the blonde, the innocent, compassionate look is still there. Love flares in her chest and Santana pulls up to bring Brittany into a deep and passionate kiss.

_Next time,_ she thinks, _definitely next time._

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><p>Santana walks up to the bartender, shows him her fake id and throws down a wad of cash.<p>

"What would you like?" The bartender is new, the old one, a thirty-something year old Italian must have quit or died from getting stabbed or maybe he feel into a manhole and died because his beer belly was so big the firefighters couldn't pull him out. The thought makes Santana smile. "Would you care for something miss?"

"Something strong."

Who needs those Glee club members? Who needs Brittany?

He pours a caramel colored liquid into a shot glass and beings a conversation. Santana replies absentmindedly until he asks "What's a girl like you doing around here?"

She silently takes down another shot and pushes it his direction for a refill. He pours again.

"You got a boyfriend?"

Another swig. Empty glass.

"A beer this time."

"No boyfriend I see."

"Girlfriend." She corrects him. He hands over the beer, eyebrows high up. "And not anymore."

She gulps down half a bottle. "But who needs 'em right?" Santana is smiling so wide it could almost be a frown.

The young bartender looks genuinely surprised but calm. "I have a girlfriend. She makes me happy."

Silence.

"What happened?" He asks.

For some reason, it makes Santana mad. She looks down at his nameplate, Carlos, and glares at him. "Look punta. Its none of your fucking business."

"Okay."

And for some reason maybe related to what happened today, it hurt that he didn't listen because Brittany would definitely have. But who needs Brittany?

It was Brittany who chose to sing that stupid love song to her in front of New Directions. It was Brittany who said those words at the end and it was Santana who acted like a dumbass and asked "What are you talking about?"

And that look, that _damn_ look that crossed Brittany's that shot through her heart. But by then, she was already talking faster than she can stop herself. "Look Brit, we may bump uglies, kiss around a little but it doesn't mean anything." _God fucking dammit._ Why didn't she stop? "You're just good at what you do." _Stop talking Santana Lopez._ "It doesn't mean I like you 'cause I don't sway that way."

Brittany doesn't argue. She just numbly walks over, grabs her bag and walks out of the choir room.

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><p>Its graduation and by a miracle that only Santana can understand, Brittany is graduating. She's a bright banana, Santana had known that all along. Pulled her grades back up enough for her teachers to pass her, at least, that's what Quinn said.<p>

She's standing with her parents and balloons and her abuelas and every family member the Lopez could think of inviting but it doesn't fill the void that only a certain blonde can fill. When she looks over and catches Brittany's eyes on her, a sort of satisfaction keeps her to the ground. By the time she's done hugging her relatives, cousins and second cousins, Brittany is no where to be scene.

Santana does eventually find her amidst the crowd of graduating seniors and celebratory parents. Only, when she gets close enough to see the blonde for herself, Artie has somehow wheeled himself over and she's just sat on his lap and kissed the four-eyed-paraplegic-nerd.

She spends the rest of the day in her room, music blaring loud enough so no one can hear her crying.

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><p>Santana is the biggest, dumb drunk known to man.<p>

She knows this because she's standing in front room number 457 of University of South Carolina. A.K.A. Brittany's dorm room.

There was a sudden moment of insanity that flashed through her head as she was drowning down alcohol shots to fly all the way from Ohio to Carolina, rent a car to the university campus and harass the aid into giving her Brittany S. Pierce's residential dorm address. Then the moment of insanity turned into sanity and now she's feeling like the dumbest shit in the world.

Who needs Brittany? What's it to her if she walked away right now and never gave a care in the world what happened to the blonde?

Because she promised to protect Brittany from all the bullies when they were five, promised herself to keep all the world's pain away from the one thing that had been good in her life. Except she didn't and she's spent the last 324 days trying to say a different three words.

Well who gives a fuck because Brittany obviously didn't care enough to stay in Lima and moved herself to Middle-of-Nowhere, South Carolina. What makes Santana even angrier is the fact that her stiletto clad feet refuse to move from Brittany's doorstep.

_Fuck fuck fuck the door is opening_. The bravery returns to Santana for a moment as she sees Brittany up close for the first time.

"I am sorry." She says, "I'm sorry for what I said last year."

"Okay." Brittany nods and closes the door.

Santana tastes bile and bitter sourness in her mouth; how dare Brittany reject her? Who in their right minds rejects _her_? She's Santana-fucking-Lopez and she doesn't get rejected.

So she knocks again, this time with determination and certainty along with a bit of anger and broken pride.

And knocks again.

And again.

"Fine Brit." She shrugs angrily and pounds on the door. "I'll just wait."

And so she does, on the floor of a dirty, dormitory for girls that smells like a combination of piss, perfume and booze.

It's four in the morning when Santana has beaten every single level of the Christmas version of Angry Birds; her ass is officially numb enough for a plastic surgeon to give her a butt reduction surgery and she's starving but she's not going to leave the spot.

By seven, there are students clamoring around the dorm area, waiting for showers or half walking to class, half dying from a hangover, the usual college student. Santana stands straight up and tries to look casual, shifting here and there so the students don't give her weird looks.

Still no Brittany.

Ten in the morning now and holy shit she's sleepy. Ten thirty and she's trying really hard not fall asleep but its getting harder and harder. Eleven and she's back to sitting on the dirty floor again, leaning on Brittany's door, dozing off.

Twelve and she's starving. And sleepy. The girls that walk by her now look at her as if she's a nut case that belongs in a mental institution with a straight jacket _and_ handcuffs. She sends them the trademark I-don't-give-half-a-fucks look that makes them scurry away or walk in a wide ark to avoid her.

Yup. She's still got it.

By one seventeen, the door pulls open and Santana shoots off the ground, ready to barge into the room. Instead, she's greeted by a shy looking brunette that looks like she's about to be the prey of a lion.

"Um….Brittany says that she needs to get to class so if you could move out of the door…"

"No." The door closes but Santana is fast enough to put her foot in to stop it, hand lashing out, taking Shy-Brunette by the helm of her shirt and pulls her face to face, "Look, Roomie, I've been sitting my fine ass here for more than twelve hours, cooped up in some stinking hallway, starving my fucking self and needing to piss like a drunk man but I will not move until I get to see her and I will sit here some more and make a crazy case for you and Brit-Brit and the school dean if you will not let me in."

Shy-Brunette looks terrified.

"Got it?"

She nods.

"Out."

The girl scurries away to the end of the hallway and the thought suddenly hits her that she may just go call security. Well, that would give her something like five minutes with Brittany, which was good enough. Maybe they'd take her to jail; she's never been in _jail_ before.

"What do you want?" Brittany says as she walks into the room.

It was weird, she wanted to talk to Brittany for so long, apologize and have them make up but now that she's said "I'm sorry", she doesn't know what she's doing here anymore.

"I…" The knot in her throat welds itself up again, "Brittany…"

"Why don't you just leave?" The coldness in her voice hurts Santana, _this_ is hurting a whole lot more than she expected. "Artie told me that you shouldn't be around me."

"Who gives a flying fuck what the four eyed nerd says?" Santana retorts, instantly fired up from the idea of Artie. "What's he done for you?

"Artie said that if I don't think of you, if I concentrate on other things, then it hurts less." The blonde says, leaning on the wall opposite to Santana and the door. "He said that he's never going to say the mean things you said and he's right because it doesn't hurt anymore if I don't think of you. Artie's nice and he brings me flowers for our dates and we hold hands and…"

"I said I was sorry B." She doesn't know how else to fix this, you make a mistake, you apologize, you're forgiven, you move on.

"It doesn't matter!" This is the first time since kindergarten that Brittany has yelled at her, the former incident happened only because she thought Brittany's hair was pretty and she pulled on it without asking, "Don't you get it? I thought we had something special, even when we dated other boys, I thought we had something _more_, and I thought you knew it too!"

"We did. Brit, we had something special!"

"Stop." Brittany covers her ears, "I don't want to listen to you, you can't come in and say my name like you care and say those things to me, you can't hurt me, I don't want to hurt anymore."

Its then that Santana realizes the water in her eyes and the tears that had been rolling down her cheeks, "Brittany." She calls out, taking steps towards the other girl. The blonde presses herself harder against the wall, eyes darting towards the door. "Don't- "

Brittany makes a mad dash for the door but Santana puts her arms out, catching the girl by her waist and then pulling her down to one of the two beds, presumably Brittany's because the bedding has printed ducks and chicks on them.

Then it was a mad fight for dominance of who would be on top.

Only, the bed was a twin sized mattress and when Santana had managed to get on top and straddle Brittany, the girl turned just enough so that they'd fall off the bed, Santana landing with a loud _thud_ on her back.

There's a moment of in that timeframe that she catches Brittany's eyes, a wild flame running through them and then, just for a split second, when her back hit the floor and she let out an audible cry, that Brittany _cared_, that her eyes were genuinely worried_._

And that was enough to convince Santana she had a chance. A second chance.

In utter determination from keeping the girl from leaving, Santana pulls herself from beneath Brittany and manically grabs one of the two wooden desks and pushes it right against the door with some strength she didn't even know she had.

"And while I'm at it." Santana says, mocking a smile and letting out a hysterical laugh, "Might as well take this." She grabs Brittany's car keys, its Brittany's because there's a picture of Lord Tubbington as a keychain, "And this." She picks up the laptop that's got a unicorn insignia on it, throws both items on the bed, and then proceeds to sit on them. Though she's a bit careful with the laptop and really slips it under her thighs, making sure not to put any weight on it.

Silence.

Dead silence.

Santana meets Brittany's eyes and they begin a stare down.

And staring.

And more staring.

Santana blinks and it's Brittany who laughs first.

"Ha! San, you lost!" For some reason, hearing Brittany say her name makes the fire in her chest burn higher.

"Hey- what? I didn't know we were doing a staring _contest_." She replies, laughing. What? She's a Lopez and they don't like to lose at anything. "Rematch!"

Brittany happily hops onto the bed next to her and they link eyes, trying hard not to blink. Santana curses the leftover tears in her eyes because tears dry out faster than regular eye juice, really that's gross to think about though, and now, after a minute, she really wants to blink.

Then she notices the realization sink into Brittany, the reality coming back from their insanity. The blonde girl blinks but it's silent again.

"I'm supposed to be mad at you."

"I would hate me too." Santana nods in agreement. "Actually, I never understood how you can like me. I'm a super bitch."

"I think Super-Bitch Santana is cool." The blonde shrugs. "But…I think Santana is cooler."

"Excuse me?" She arches an eyebrow in confusion.

"Like Lord Tubbington. He eats everything and even though I think its cool, it upsets my parents. Like how you upset everyone. I love him though, whenever I'm sad, he'll sit with me. He listens when I cry and he uses his litter box." Brittany swallows and there's a brief silence as she sits and collects her thoughts. "You're like Lord Tubbington. Sure, there are things that can make you dislikeable. But to me, you're perfect. All of you, not just when you're being cool but when you sleep and you talk…at the same time! Or how you protect me. And you don't think I'm dumb. Or…"

"I'm sorry, Brittany." Santana says again, "I'm sorry for saying all those things, for the way I reacted to you, for…everything. That's why I came here today or yesterday, whatever, I wanted to let you know that I regret ever hurting you because I was selfish and scared. Forgive me?"

Brittany smiles and nods and Santana can breath again. "I do. I already have for a long time now."

"Really?"

"Artie said that I didn't do anything wrong, that it was you." The blonde girl explains, "He said that that's what happens when you like someone and they don't like you back, your heart hurts. He said that if I didn't want it to hurt anymore I should just forget about you."

"Did you?"

The blonde girl shakes her head. "No. Sort of. It first hurt a lot, every hour, every moment; it didn't even feel right to breathe. But Artie was right when he said that if I didn't think about you, it hurt less." Brittany's voice grows distant and pained, "And day by day, it got better. I started studying, thinking about books instead of you. But sometimes, I'd see something that reminded me of you, the way the light catches a person's face, breadsticks, those days it's hard."

Brittany's face turns wounded, eyes filling up with tears. "And San, those days I wish you were here with me."

Santana wraps her arms around the taller girl, pulling her into a tight hug. "Me too." She confesses, "Every day. Every moment. I stopped going out with blonde guys because they reminded me of you. Actually I stopped seeing guys completely."

The crying girl looks up in surprise, "So you're only dating girls now?"

She smiles and shakes her head, "I stopped going out with any one. My new bed is a _virgin_ because of you Brit." This one makes Brittany laughs and Santana loves the sound. "I'd go out, drink, party. But when it came to getting funky? You _broke_ me."

This time the blonde doesn't catch the joke, she gets visibly upset and begins pulling up Santana's skirt, "Wait. Brit. I was just speaking metaphorically! Nothing's changed down there!"

"Oh." Brittany blushes at the fact that she has her uninvited hand down Santana's skirt. She shifts upwards and molds herself to Santana's arms again.

Santana slowly lowers the other girl down to the bed, arms around her, and when they're finally laying down together, she places a kiss on Brittany's forehead. They stay in the same position, Santana stroking the blonde's back and waist rhythmically, humming a Spanish lullaby.

She wonders if they'll ever be the same after this.

After she's hurt Brittany.

It takes a long time to think but she finally makes her decision.

"Brit?"

No response.

"Brit?"

_Poor girl is asleep._ Santana wonders if Brittany had stayed up all night too. It makes her heart hurt a little more.

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><p>Hours later, she slowly gets up, making sure not to wake the blonde.<p>

_This is easier_. Santana thinks as she grabs a sheet of white paper and begins to write. When she's done she kisses the folded paper with her half worn lipstick and places in it Brittany's hand.

Then she leaves.

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><p>Its...something. I'm not sure how I feel about Brittana. I feel like, on the surface, they're such a simple couple but they're much more complex than that. I *know* that they're much more than that, figuring out the complexity and making a good story out of it is a bit harder though. Anyways, i'm rambling.<p>

Thanks for reading and you could be awesome and leave me a review. Tell me what you think!


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